


Wildflower

by missanonyma



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), Victoria (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy AU, Varchie!Centric, Victoria - Freeform, Victorian Era-esque
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missanonyma/pseuds/missanonyma
Summary: victorian era fantasy varchie au
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	Wildflower

**Author's Note:**

> i'm too lazy to get a beta so i proofread stuff myself, ergo if you see grammar mistakes no you didn't.

Dakota is the largest kingdom in the land, spanning as far as the eye can see, and for generations it’s been ruled by the Lodge’s. The people love their monarch, though things are gearing up for a change. With the passing of the king, and her 21st birthday recently passing, Veronica ascended the throne.

In all her 20 years, the only things she’s known are purple velvet gowns and ruby tiaras, paired with Gardenias and tudor rose bushes that decorate the palace grounds, and the ivy that climbs the outer walls.

Queen Veronica Cecilia Lodge has been the prized jewel of Dakota since her birth and prince’s from all over travel to ask for her hand in marriage. In which every time they do, she declines. But, No one understood why, as she was an attractive woman.she didn't have many friends outside of the palace, so why wouldn’t she want companionship?

Archie met the Queen for the first time when they were eight , and it was his first time at the palace. He was there with his father, the King of Riverdale,on their visit to Dakota. Riverdale is a smaller kingdom, almost completely off the map, but as small as it is, it’s one of the most noble of kingdoms around.

They are the same age, and she used to invite him to play in the garden’s with her. Of course it was allowed because whatever the princess wants, even now, she gets, especially since she’s just as terrifying as father at her young age.

They were friends for years, exchanging letters as they were the other’s only friend, both children having no siblings, and being groomed to one day run a kingdom. Unfortunately, they soon fell out of touch due to Archie’s departure to a neighbouring kingdom when his father sadly passed away. The young boy was taken in by a prominent, military family where he was sent to serve as soon as he hit sixteen. All while his uncle took his throne.

He and Veronica haven’t seen each other since they were twelve, and it’s been nearly a decade. It would be an understatement to say he was excited to receive an invitation for him to come and stay at the palace.

Ronnie…

The only image he has to go along with the name is certainly out of date. Well actually, he can’t say that anymore because that would be false. He saw her two months back when she came to inspect the regiment he belongs to, more of a ceremonial thing than anything. But she didn’t see him.

He knows he’s not the only person invited, there’s always someone visiting, and her mother is surely trying to marry her off to some prince nobody has ever heard of.

In Archie’s opinion, she’s doing just fine ruling on her own.

The whole kingdom loves Queen Veronica , that’s the word from the people. Though quite a few of the heads of military question her decisions as she’s a woman, but he knows if they were in the same room as her, they wouldn’t doubt her in the slightest.

“Andrews.”

He stands at attention immediately, looking as his commanding officer Colonel Marcus Mason approaches him. He’s a burly man, rough beard and eyes that demand respect.

He’s in charge of Archie’s regiment, the same unit of men Archie’s fought and trained with since he first enlisted. But he’s also the man who allowed Archie to come live with him and his family, an old friend of his father’s, when Fred passed. Marcus became a second father to Archie as he finished growing up, and it’s something Archie will forever be grateful for.

“Sir, how can I be of service?”

“At ease, Andrews, I came to wish you safe travels before you leave,” Marcus nods and Archie’s posture declines the slightest bit.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Invited to the palace… Not many of us can say that, hm? Don’t give the Queen a reason to punish the military, alright?”

Archie chuckles, nodding, he steps forward to shake Marcus’ hand.

“I won’t, thank you for letting me go, sir.”

“Not like I have much of a choice, it’s the Queen,” he points out as Archie picks up his trunk with ease and loads onto the back of the carriage. Archie grins to himself, it’s not the Queen, it’s Ronnie.

Veronica’s been aware of her duty to her kingdom since she was born, one day she was going to grow up enough to fill the shoes of her father and lead the country until her death. She knew there would be added pressures, not only because of her age but also her gender. She’s the youngest monarch Dakota has ever had, also one of the only female ones, and she’s reminded of that daily from the men in parliament.

They all want her to get married; Her mother, the head of government, everyone.

It’s not suitable for a woman to rule without a spouse. Bullshit. She doesn’t need a leash, she’s a capable woman. She has nothing against getting married, but the more she’s told to, the less she wants to.

To be honest, Veronica has yet to meet a man she could marry for love, rather than just convenience. She doesn’t want to be a wife, she’s a Queen. And she’s good at it too.

She spends all day at her desk, reading and signing things. She goes for carriage rides through the city, little children give her flowers and cheer as she passes by. Her dog, Duke, has been her only companion since she was a girl. Other than Archie, that is.

She thinks about him often, the red headed boy who used to run around the castle with her until dawn while their parents wined and dined with other royals. Her fondest memories all involve them laughing while Smithers scolds them for tracking mud in from the guardian through the foyer.

She remembers how upset she was when he was sent away, after his father passed. She pleaded with her father to take Archie in, so she wouldn’t lose her only friend. But of course that never happened.

So, just like she had before he entered her life, she spent the end of her childhood alone.

“Duke, down!” her dresser scolds the King Charles Spaniel as he tries to jump on his owner’s lap, distracting the woman braiding Veronica’s hair. Veronica pulls away to swiftly pick up her dog, and cuddle him on her lap while she continues to have her hair done.

“Are you excited to meet the princes, ma’am?” her dresser, Midge asks.

“No,” she says honestly, making Midge snort then immediately cover her mouth in embarrassment. “I would be excited to see one of them but unfortunately any eligible bachelor here tonight has been invited by my mother, not me.”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“Not like this, Midge. Never like this.”

As much as she hates the occasion, she must admit the princes she’s greeted so far are handsome. There’s a wide selection; Blond, brunette, wavy, curly, thin, stout. The Russian prince makes her laugh, their customs are much more forward than Dakota’s.

“Madam?”

“Hm?”

She’s broken away from her thoughts by one of her guards, gesturing there’s another prince in front of her who’s caught her staring into space.

“Something on your mind?” the prince laughs, taking her hand and kissing it.

“Um, no, no, sorry. I’m Veronica.”

“Forsythe,” he says, grimacing as he has a clear distaste for his name. “But you can call my Jughead, if you’d like.”

“Jughead?” she giggles, tilting her head slightly in confusion.

“Odd story.”

“I’d love to hear it,” she says right before he’s guided elsewhere to make room for the next suitor. Hm, Jug-head. She can’t help but like to know more.

The ride to the Palace is breathtaking, more so than he remembers. He’s been away so long he’s forgotten the smell of the country, the sweet pollen always flowing through the air, though the large palace just atop the hill was always slightly daunting to the scene.

He doesn’t have many opportunities to wear his dress uniform; A navy tunic with golden weaved epaulets, sash, and belt. His boots are newly shined and the buttons on his tunic polished. He doesn’t remember many formal events, as he attended them when he was young, but when he left Riverdale he lived the life of a common citizen.

He wonders why she asked him here, of all the times she could have reached out. It’s been years and she decided now was the time they must reunite, why? Maybe there isn’t a reason, but he’d like to hope there is.

“Good to see you again, sir,” Smithers, Veronica’s head of the household, says to him with a smile as he leads him inside the palace. He hasn’t been here in forever, but he has countless pleasant memories within these walls. He’s curious if there will be opportunities to make more.

“Crown Prince of Riverdale, Captain Archibald Andrews, of the 3rd battalion, 1st regiment,” the Herald stamps his staff, indicating Archie’s free to enter the throne room.

He’s correct, upon his entrance through the grand oak doors to the throne room, he can see royals from other kingdoms standing at attention. They're all here for some evening dinner party, Archie doesn’t have much interest in mingling though. He doesn’t spend much time studying the nostalgic surroundings because the woman at the end of the large room steals all of his attention.

She’s a woman now, tan and curvy with a velvet gown that barely touches the floor. Her raven black hair accented her startling eyes gorgeously. No longer a girl with her hair braided and gown wrinkled, she’s a woman. A beautiful woman. And he might’ve not recognized her, but those eyes.... He’d know those eyes anywhere.

She takes his breath away when he lowers his head in a sign of respect to the sovereign.

“Your majesty,” he says, kissing her hand before looking up at her. She’s not smiling, and he’s taken aback. He knows they won’t be able to talk yet, not while she still has guests to greet, so he shoots her a friendly smile before walking over to the only other familiar face in the room.

“Archibald, you’re so grown,” the Queen Mother, Hermione, smiles at him and gives him her hand to kiss.

“And you look as radiant as ever, your majesty. As does, the Queen.”

Archie glances around the large room, it’s all royalty. There are barely any military men in the room besides the royal guard, he finds it quite funny. Him and the other soldiers love to make fun of princes and how they buy their medals rather than earn them.

“Oh well, your Uncle and I both thought it was time you and Veronica. We’re both glad you’ve accepted.”

Wait, what?

“Pardon? Frank?”

“Yes, didn’t he tell you? We both-”

“Archibald.”

Hermione then excuses herself, going to greet a duchess that just arrived, as Archie turns around. There stands Frank, King of Riverdale. His Uncle, the man who when Archie needed an ally most, sent him away from his home. It’s not something someone forgets all that easily.

“Frank. Why am I here?” Archie snaps, clenching his jaw and folding his arms tightly.

“Well, as you know the Queen needs a husband-”

“No, she doesn’t. Her mother is trying to marry her off because she’s old fashioned, secondly I have no wish to leave my position in the army and you’re just trying to get me to give up my claim to the throne,” Archie spits sourly. “Why do you even care? I’m serving right now, I’m not even old enough to take the throne in Riverdale-”

“But you're old enough to become King of Dakota,” Frank interrupts, stepping closer. “A son of Riverdale taking the Dakotian throne… Riverdale is a tiny kingdom, but Dakota, it’s a major country, Archie.”

“I’m not going to be a pawn in your weird game. And I’m also not going to aid Hermione in trying to invalidate Veronica. I’m leaving.”

He doesn’t even make it to the door before a butler, one from Riverdale, stops him and whispers in his ear that it’s in his best interest to stay until the end of the week.

“Is that a threat? I’m the goddamn prince,” he doesn’t play the prince card usually, in the military he made it very clear he wanted to be treated like everyone else and start from the bottom then get promoted based on merit, but right now he’s very mad. When he joined the army, he was stationed so far from the capital it was easy to pretend he had no affiliation with the royal family. He often dreams of a world where he was born a commoner, things would be easier, and he would be able to live a life based on want and not pressure.

“And he’s the king,” the butler says simply.

“Archibald?” a man in a green tunic with gallons of grease in his hair approaches. He doesn’t recognize him, but he seems to recognize Archie.

“Reginald Mantle, Captain of the Royal Guard,” he extends a hand which Archie firmly grasps. “The Queen wishes to see you, follow me.”

He finds himself less excited to see her after meeting with her mother and his uncle. He doesn’t want to get married, honestly without his father here he doesn’t even want the throne. But he’s too stubborn to let Frank have it.

The hallways of the Dakotian Palace are just as he remembers, Persian rugs and golden chandeliers. The walls hold the most exquisite paintings, the candle light shines against the gold.

She’s there, back turned to him when he enters the parlor. Her ballgown is crimson, he can see the tops of her shoulder blades, the definition beneath her golden skin.

“I’m not marrying you, Archie,” she says as soon as the doors click shut. Way to get to the point, he thinks. She turns around, looking him straight in the eye, the same stern look she used to give him when they were kids. “It seems my mother has invited you here on what? The pretenses my hand is up for grabs? Well it’s not.”

“It’s lovely to see you as well, Veronica, how long has it been? Nine years?” he chuckles at the situation, also at the fact she’s somehow even more gorgeous than he’d imagine in his mind.

“No amount of courting will change my mind. If I marry, it will be for love, and no one can fall in love in a week. I’m not going to marry a man just because having a young unmarried woman as Queen makes the government uncomfortable.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” he’s smiling at her, he can’t help it. He’s dreamt about this moment a long time, and her being sassy and stubborn just makes it all the more realistic. She grins back, she knows he’s laughing at her. She lets out the breath she was holding, winding down as though she thought she was going to have to fight him on this.

He’d love to marry her, anyone would. But he could never now because it’s not his idea and she’s not willing. Plus, he has a country to run.

“It’s good to see you, Archiekins,” she rolls her eyes.

“Well, I see you haven’t changed much. Still bossy as ever.”

“Pardon you, I’m the Queen now,” she gestures to the couch where he sits down beside her.

“So which one will you marry, then inevitably send off to go live in some tower on the corner of the property?” he jokes.

“I’m not getting married, even if it was for love, my mother would think it was her doing. I’m not getting married on anyone else’s agenda.”

“I feel the sameway, I’d only ever want to marry the woman I love,” he says, eyes glancing from her lips back up to her eyes. His heart aches slightly, and he’s not sure why. If she notices, she doesn’t let on. “I guess we’ll be two old maids together.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather drink gin and play cards with. And, Archie, for the record. It is good to see you, even if I wasn’t the one who invited you here.”

He grins, leaning back on the couch, setting his feet on the dark stained coffee table.

“Aw, you missed me.”

“Well I certainly didn’t miss you getting dirt on my great-great-great grandmother’s table,” she kicks his feet with her heel, making his feet fall to the rug with a thud as their laughs echo throughout the oh so quiet room.

She’s contemplating throwing her water glass at the wall, but she manages to keep composed. So, not only has her mother taken it upon herself to rope her only friend into potentially being her husband but also a complete stranger.

On her left sits King Frank and Archie, and on her right is the King of Southerland, Forsythe II and his son, Jughead. All four have been invited to stay at the palace for the week, where she's sure Jughead will try to court her. She doesn’t mind him, he may even be pleasant to be around as his first impression presented him, but she’s not interested in falling in love with anyone in a week.

All in all this might be the most tense breakfast she’s ever experienced.

“So, Archibald, I hear you’re in the military?” FP asks. Apparently the king is fond of nicknames as well.

“Um, yes sir,” Archie nods as he tries to keep his head down, clear he wishes he could be anywhere else right now. He looks great in his suit, it makes her giggle how ruffled he seems in comparison to the other men at the table. His suit looks like it was worn several times, and bought several years ago, in comparison to the newly tailored suits the other gentlemen are wearing.

His fashion sense was always like this, his nanny would only bother replacing his casual clothes once there were multiple holes in them after he would often find himself caked in mud on a daily basis. She remembers once how he got scolded for ripping his clothes after climbing a tree to retrieve her lost kite.

It’s nice to know the person she once knew might really not be so far after all.

“Good man. Jughead, here, couldn’t be bothered to serve. Couldn’t be away from his books for that long-”

“No, I just prefer to educate myself rather than chase others around a battlefield with a musket.”

“If I may-” Archie starts, looking towards Veronica but he’s stopped.

“Your Majesty, if I may, I was hoping you’d like to accompany me on a walk in the forest? I’ve heard you have a beautiful one on the property and I’m sure it’s stunning this time of year,” Jughead says, offering her his hand when he stands from the glazed oak dining table.

“Of course,” she accepts, not wanting to be rude, taking his hand and following him to the garden entrance. She looks behind her at Archie, mouthing that she’s sorry, as he’s left alone with two kings and his mother. His secretary and her Mistress of the Robes trail behind them, as always.

“You seem fond of the outdoors, Jughead,” she laughs slightly, still finding his nickname quite humorous. He grins along with her as they step through the greenery.

“I am, I enjoy riding horseback through the pastures at my own palace.”

“You ride? I should show you the stables here at the palace, we have fine steeds available if you’re interested. Archibald enjoys horseback as well.”

“I may just take you up on that, though if I’m being quite honest, the redheaded prince? Seems a bit… Erm, standoffish,” he chuckles.

“Archie? No he’s lovely.”

“You have given him a nickname already?” he raises an eyebrow.

“He’s been a friend for years,” she breathes out, narrowly avoiding the blush that threatens to creep onto her cheeks just at the thought of him.

It still feels odd to call Archie a friend, when really he’s so much more. He’s the only person who’s ever truly understood her, even if their friendship took place so long ago, she considers him part of her inner circle.

“I hear you also fence?” she asks, quickly steering the subject away from all things Archie, gripping her petticoat so as to not let it drag too much in the mud.

“Yes, I did a lot as a boy. Why? Do you as well?”

“As if my mother would ever allow me to fence,” she laughs. “No, I spent my childhood reading like a proper princess. Because no one finds a tomboy attractive,” she imitates her mother at the end rather over exaggeratedly making them both laugh.

“I don’t think you need any help in the ways of attractiveness, Veronica,” he says, stopping in his tracks and looking her in the eye, gaze falling down to her lips and staying trained there.

“I agree. I don’t.”

She starts walking again and clears her throat, “Though I feel I must inform you, I don’t intend on marrying you.”

“Oh? So you’ve proposed and Archibald’s accepted?”

“No!” she laughs. “I’m not marrying anyone.”

“And why is that, may I ask?”

“I think you know why.”

“Do I?”

Once again, she stops turning to him, “I’m not interested in flirting with you, Forsythe.”

“I’m not flirting, I’d just like to know why I’m so deterring?”

“It’s not you,” she sighs. “I’m not marrying anyone for convenience, only for love. And I quite simply am not in love with anyone.”

“Except yourself?”

“Excuse me?” her head snaps over to find him hiding a laugh. She hits his arm, playfully scolding him.

“I’m only kidding-”

Their conversation is interrupted by a loud yell piercing the morning air followed by the sound of splashing.

“Please, your highness, I beg of you. It’s not civilised,” Dilton, the butler who’s been assigned to him for his stay, pleads as Archie as well as Reginald whom Archie has made fast friends with strip down out of all of their clothes and prepares to jump into the watering hole he’s found on the property.

“Maybe not, but it’s fun,” Archie laughs, letting out a loud screech as he dives into the chilly water, Reggie not far behind. It’s a hidden spot, rocks forming a small waterfall and the pool lower than land around.

“Come, join us!” Archie calls up to the nervous looking butler.

“I’d rather not, sir!”

Archie smiles to himself, swimming laps in the body of water, letting the water soak into his skin. He hasn’t gone swimming in ages, and the water looked amazing. He couldn't help himself. Plus, he doubts Veronica would mind she’s probably off getting courted by that Jones fellow.

He’s always loved nature, especially the water. He has fond memories of visiting the harbor with his father before he passed, he would always let him swing on the ropes of royal battle ships as a boy.

After his swim and a respectful scolding from Dilton, Archie makes his way up to the library, hoping to find a deck of cards to satisfy his boredom but instead he’s intercepted by Veronica. He didn’t expect her back from her walk with Jughead so soon but here she was.

“So, a ship?”

He raises an eyebrow, confused. He leans against the doorframe and waits for her to elaborate.

“Your tattoo. On your shoulder?”

His hand moves to touch his right shoulder where his ink is, and his mind computes what she’s saying rather slowly before his ears turn red.

“Yes, how did you… Oh my god, is the Queen of Dakota herself a peeping tom?” he asks, laughing at the rosy tint on her cheeks becoming more prominent. She’s not the only one blushing either, because it crosses his mind if she saw him in the pool she must’ve seen parts of him she definitely wasn’t anticipating seeing.

He can’t help but wonder in the back of his mind what it would be like to catch her during a dip in the pool.

“It’s not being a peeping tom if you went for a swim in my swimming hole,” she says, walking towards him. “But never the matter, I’ve come to ask if you would want to have lunch with me in the garden?”

“The garden?”

“Yes the flowers have just bloomed and it’s wonderful outside.”

He takes a step forward, offering her his arm.

“How about a picnic instead? Much more civilised,” he jokes ironically, thinking back to what Dilton had said earlier. She giggles, taking his arm and smiling with him as they make their way outside.

He’s a bit surprised she agreed, but he’s excited of course. He forgot how much he actually does enjoy finger sandwiches, and the chefs at the palace do them very well. He eats almost the entire quantity served to them, which amuses her so much so she breaks out into laughter.

“What?” he asks, oblivious to what's causing her burst of laughter.

“Hold on,” she says, leaning forward and gently wiping his chin with her thumb. “Clotted cream was an interesting fashion choice, Archiekins.”

He chuckles, blushing and glancing down embarrassed. Later in the meal, they lay on their backs and look up at the clouds, pointing out shapes to each other, simply childishly basking in the rare sunshine gracing them this time of year.

“So, did you and Forsythe have a good time this morning?” he asks, still staring at the sky. In the corner of his eye he can make out her turning to glance at him.

“Jealous, are we?”

“Jealous? Of what?” he chuckles, rolling on his side to face her. Her raven black hair has a gorgeous brunette aura to it as the sun shines down on her. She looks angelic.

“I don’t know you tell me.”

“Well I don’t know why I’d be jealous of anyone spending time with you, I thought you and I had plans to be old maids together?”

“Well maybe Jughead and I will be old maids together,” she says matter of factly, lips curling upward, facing the sky.

“Well that's just rude,” he scoffs. “I’m supposed to be your best guy.”

“So you are jealous then?”

In a swift move, he grabs her arms, grasping her elbows he rolls them off the blanket and down a small slope of grass, landing in a patch of wildflowers. They’re both laughing, she ends up atop him, hands on his chest to stay upright.

Has she always had golden specks in her eyes?

“Um, Miss?”

Her head shoots to find the voice calling to her, telling her she has somewhere she needs to be, but Archie can’t seem to look away from the beauty on top of him. His large hands grip her waist and her fabric of her dress spills over his legs.

It’s a bit immature, probably foolish in the eyes of some, but Archie hasn’t felt this happy in a long time.

She’s quite pleased with how today went to be honest. She got to know Jughead a bit more, and he even exchanged notes with her on the newest publishment by their shared favorite poet after dinner. He’s very smart and she appreciates he challenges her intellectually.

And then she was able to sneak away with Archie to just relax. It’s always been easy to be with him, like she doesn’t have to try.

She’s a bit regretful that one of her staff caught her in a compromising position with Archie, back in the fields, but she doesn’t need to explain herself, she’s the Queen. And he’s just a friend. But she’d also be lying if she didn’t enjoy the way he looked at her, and maybe the way she looked back at him.

She finds it funny when at dinner a tipsy FP tries to get Archie to duel him after ranting about how Jughead was an ‘inside boy’ who didn’t partake in manly activities.

“Another time, sir,” Archie says, holding back laughter. Though she did notice how his mood shifted whenever Frank would speak, she wonders what that’s about.

Her day was better than she planned, but it tanked when her mother bombarded her with questions in front of everyone about what she admires in a man.

“One that respects me and what I want, it’s hard to find people like that these days,” she responded sharply, glaring daggers at her mother and making mental plans to ship her off to a permanent residence on the other side of the country.

It’s not that she doesn’t want a husband, because she does. But she would only marry for love, especially since she’s already at the disadvantage of being a young woman ruling a country with old people obsessed with tradition trying to push men on her. She’s doing this her own way, or not at all.

It’s not like she wants to be Queen, after all. But it’s something she was born to do, so she must.

“Archibald.”

He turns around, on his way back to the apartment appointed to him for his stay at the palace, and see’s none other than the Queen Mother approaching him in the dimly lit hallway.

“Hello, Your Majesty,” Archie bows his head slightly, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was just wondering if you’ve accepted your Uncle and my proposal? About you and Veronica.”

“I don’t think Veronica’s interested in marriage, Hermione. Not a loveless one.”

“Oh Veronica doesn’t know what she wants,” Hermione’s eyes roll slightly. “What she needs is a husband. And I think you would be a great fit for her.”

“Respectfully,” he starts, taking a breath. “I’m not comfortable listening to anyone decide what Veronica wants other than Veronica.”

Hermione looks taken aback, and just as he’s about to bid her goodnight she speaks one last time, “Just tell me this, humor me. Do you love my daughter?”

He hesitates, not sure how to answer exactly. Of course the answer is yes, but it’s not that easy and it’s never been that easy. But really, what’s the point in lying?

“A part of my heart has always belonged to Veronica. And that’s exactly why I have no agenda other than being her friend until I leave.”

The next few days are busy ones for Veronica workload wise. She doesn’t see much of her guests though both Jughead and Archie manage to steal some of her time.

Jughead insists on helping her while she works, blotting the ink on papers she’s already signed or stacking papers for her so the work is done faster, discussing poetry, and he even takes her on a carriage ride through the local town.

“Your kingdom is gorgeous, the architecture on your government building is exquisite,” he points out as they pass by the parliament building. He’s full of little anecdotes like that, appreciating the historical aspects of things.

Though as much as she enjoys his company, she still finds herself smiling whenever her assistant says that Prince Archibald wants to know if you’re busy.

She and Archie do the things they used to do together, and they find new things they also have in common. Playing four handed pieces on piano, playing croquet on the lawn, and taking turns drawing portraits of each other, though sometimes they depict the other much more monstrous than in reality. And - thankfully - no more being awkwardly walked in on.

She sends him notes too, when she can. Witty little things like ‘I’d much rather be looking at clouds with you than talking to dusty old men in top hats’, to which he finds himself sending her small wildflowers as a response.

The vibrant color of the flowers reminds her of his spirit and also his brightly colored hair, so different from the delicate roses and intricate foreign flowers in the gardens. He’s never really belonged as a royal in her opinion, he lights up everything he does so brightly he could do things much greater than ruling a kingdom.

Archie and Jughead don’t interact too much, unsurprisingly. Though they have a lot in common in her opinion, just by how they act. The only time she recalls seeing them together is when they discussed their thoughts on the war being fought in the East, though they both disagreed on the topic. Jughead was all for peace while Archie insisted there needed to be violence before there could be peace in this case. It makes her think, which one of them would fight if she asked? Fight to stay, fight for her.

Not that she would but, it’s something she can’t help but contemplate.

At the end of the week, there’s a small ball being held at the palace. Everyone is dressed in their finest ball gowns and suits, boots are freshly shined and jewelry polished. Veronica’s dress was made in Paris from yards of sea green silk, pearls are woven into her hair and she finds herself absentmindedly smiling as she prepares to head inside.

“Excited, ma’am?” Midge asks to which Veronica nods, still grinning.

“You know I love social events, Midge.”

“Is that the only thing you love, ma’am?” she raises her eyebrow at the young Queen.

“Pardon?” she’s taken aback, her staff not usually so forward.

“You have been spending an awful lot of time with both the princes, majesty, have you given any thought to marriage?”

“I’m not getting married, Midge,” Veronica says smoothing out the skirt of her gown. “I’m not in love with either of them.”

“Sure about that, ma’am?”

She isn’t given time to answer because the doors open and all eyes in the ballroom are on her as she enters. Everyone bows as is the custom, and she’s quickly approached by Jughead to ask for her first dance.

“May I?” he offers her his hand covered in white, he looks great in his country’s uniform, the starched fabric pressed stiffly. She accepts and he whisks her off to the dance floor.

“You look beautiful as ever. Green compliments your complexion,” Jughead notes, guiding them in the dance.

“Thank you. So, you're off back to Southerland tomorrow?”

“I am. And I’m sure even if I ask what our parents would like me to, you will still say no even having gotten to know me?”

She smiles appreciatively, “I can’t marry you, Jughead, I don’t love you.”

He nods, understanding.

“Nevertheless, I’ve had a great time with you this week. I hope you find love one day, Veronica.”

“I wish that for you as well.”

After dancing with Jughead, she’s approached by a few members of her government before she finds a moment to herself finally to sneak off to one of the balconies upstairs, telling Reggie to have Archie meet her up there.

The balcony is iron, decorated in molded golden leaves wrapping around the rods. She’s always loved this spot, it’s peaceful and you can see the entire courtyard and garden from here. The fountain is trickling softly in the background from below.

He leans against the doorway when he gets there, smiling at her. She knows he’s there, recognizing the scuff of his boots on the floor.

“Finally find time for me?” he jokes.

“Oh, I always have time for you, Archiekins,” she responds, turning around to face him.

He blushes, looking down towards his boots before looking up to her again.

“We should go swimming tomorrow, before I leave, just like old times.”

She’s slightly saddened all of a sudden. ‘Before I leave’. She doesn’t want him to go. She wonders again if he’d stay if she asked. If.

“Queens don’t swim with strange men, Archibald,” she says, stepping forward before poking him in the chest.

“Oh but I’m not a strange man, and things are different when you’re with me,” he says, taking her hands and backing her into the room, their eyes locked. “We’re us.”

He can’t help but smile a bit, her hands are so soft and small enveloped in his. Her eyes look godlike with the moonlight pouring down making them glow, and her lips are a rosy plump pink. Their faces are dangerously close, mere inches between them, but neither of them seem to make any point of changing that.

“So, did Jones propose?” he asks, moving his thumb along hers.

“What’s it to you?”

“What do you think it is to me?”

They both know the answer, deep, deep down. But at the moment it’s not quite visible. Or maybe it is and they just don’t want it to be.

For her, she feels like a cold bucket of water has been dumped on her head. They’ve been having such a good time this week she doesn’t want to ruin it now.

“Please don’t do this now. You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing it now or else I’ll never have the chance to tell you-”

“Archie, don’t,” she pleads, knowing if he says the wrong thing the easy time they’ve been spending together would come crashing down. “I’m not in love with anyone, I’m not getting married.”

“Am I really just anyone to you?”

“What happened to only days ago? You said you didn’t want to get married for convenience either-”

“I’ve been here, Veronica. I’ve watched Forsythe courting you and it’s different when it’s you and me. You say you don’t want to get married then you send me notes and take me on picnics…” his eyes are wide and desperate. “I’ve loved you since we were kids and this week I’ve just… You said a person can’t fall in love in a week but I didn’t need a week, I’ve had nine years to think about you and dream about you. If you can honestly look me in the eye and say you don’t feel the same and this is one sided, I will leave you alone.”

She’s taken aback, and she doesn't know what to say to him.

“I can’t get married-”

“That’s not an answer.”

“My mother will think it’s her doing-”

“Are you really so stubborn you’ll choose ignorance over happiness?”

She stares back at him, not even offended because it’s true. She’s always been this way, and she doesn't see how that could change just because of one person.

“I-I can’t. Archie, I can’t.”

“You can’t or you don’t?”

“I’m sorry, Archie.”

The ball is mute in his mind when he returns to the grand gilded room where nobles are dancing and drinking.

He feels numb, his stomach is practically dragging on the ancient floor. He shouldn’t have said anything. He’s not sure if he can ever look her in the eye again without thinking about how embarrassed he is with the core of his being.

He’s a fool for ever thinking she could feel the same.

“Archibald!”

Frank approaches him swiftly and grabs his forearm tightly, grasping his shoulder with his other hand.

“Did you do it? Hm? You’ve spent all week with that idiotic girl, are you her fiance?” Frank slurs, eyes tinted red.

“You’re drunk. And high,” Archie pushes his hands off him but Frank doesn’t let him leave so simply.

“Don’t be fucking stupid, Archie, the throne is yours, take it! She’s too young and stupid, she’s a girl for gods sake! Take-”

Archie grabs Frank by the breast of his coat, his jaw is clenched and anger is practically oozing from his eyes.

“Do not talk about the Queen that way. Over my dead body am I going to let you rule my country any longer. I will take the throne next year like I planned and if you stay quiet maybe you won’t be exiled,” he spits. “If I were you, I’d leave. Now.”

Archie watches Frank brush off his jacket and wander off to probably find more alcohol. He’s fuming, and he decides he can’t stay any longer. He ignores anyone who tries to speak to him, steal a dance with him, or even look at him as he exits.

He can’t sleep.

Still in his dress uniform he wanders the gardens, settling himself on the silver bench beneath the cherry blossom tree. He’s had a hell of a week. He had the guts to finally tell the girl he’s loved since forever that he does love her, something he was going to ignore after she made it so adamant she would never get married for anything other than love.

But all the signs were there she felt the same and in the end she couldn’t meet him halfway.

When he leaves tomorrow, he’s going to go back to the army and do another tour. Hopefully somewhere far, far from here. And then he’ll go back home, and take the throne. Though it’s something he’s never wanted, it’s his duty.

He would give it all up honestly. He was hopeful despite the fact she made herself so clear. He loves the army, the discipline and honor of it all. And he loves his country. But as much as he loves the military and as much as he hates his uncle, it doesn’t compare to the attraction he’s always felt for Veronica.

That’s why it stings so much.

Not to mention his uncle’s ignorance and rude remarks this evening that got his blood boiling. He meant what he said, he will not abandon his country and leave it in the hands of that imbecile. He’s going to return the country to its former glory like his father would have wanted.

So caught up in his own mind, he doesn’t hear the footsteps stalking up behind him, and he almost jumps when he hears his name.

Like some sort of angel in a nightmare, there she is all of a sudden in her white nightgown, a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her curls rest on her shoulders and her face is bare. Honestly she looks like something out of a painting, visiting him in the moonlight.

“What are you doing here?” he says, standing up and turning to face her when she walks to his side of the bench.

“I… I am a strong, independent woman,” she says confidently to him. He agrees of course, but he’s very confused as to why she decided to sneak out of bed and find him to tell him that. “And I don’t need a husband despite what my government and my mother think.”

“And you are a man with a kind heart and soul and I love you.”

_I. Love. You._

“And I want to ask if… If you would do me the pleasure of marrying me?”

His lips part slightly and he stares at her in shock, his brows are furrowed deeply when his hands find her waist.

Her breath hitches, and it’s electric when their noses brush. Their lips are barely touching when he pulls away suddenly.

“For me this is not a marriage of convenience,” he says, looking her deeply in the eye.

“Oh, no, I think this will be a marriage of inconvenience,” she whispers, both of them grinning and laughing under their breath as he lifts her up to his height, and he kisses her for the first time. Deep and passionate, his body is on fire. Her little fingers curl into his hair and in that moment Archie knows this has always been where he was supposed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> wow. wasn't planning on the posting this in fear it would be too geeky or forever underdeveloped but im glad i did even if i did hope to have it more spread out, i liked how it ended up i think. 
> 
> thank you - for just reading this in general and i can tell if you read author's notes you're a nice person so, just thank you. im thinking of writing more things on the long side so, hopefully you'll stick around.


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